Dog Days

This has nothing to do with dogs. Or August. Or summer. If I were to associate this with any kind of season, it would be winter...cold, hard to downright brutal. I am overwhelmed...by life's unexpected, twisty, worse than pretzel turns. Guilt eats at me because I am not equipped to care for my mom in her greatest hour of need. I have a "visitor" aka sitter come to stay with Mom while I sneak out of her house and down the street to meet my brothers so we can go to look at nursing/retirement facilities. We don't know how to tell her what we're doing without upsetting her. And my brother asked the question, "How can we just take our mother and drop her off somewhere like that?"

The agent for Whispering Pines in Columbiana called me a few minutes ago to touch base with her. Last week she sent cards through the mail to both of my brothers and to me. The facility was the most affordable and the most beautiful that we've looked at. We all agreed that Mom would be very content there. But the doors are not kept locked. There are caregivers, but residents can walk out the door alone. Mom is in late stage Alzheimer's.

As much as she insists her Alzheimer's "isn't progressing as fast as they thought it would. I can live on my own. I don't need anyone to stay with me," the fact is, she doesn't remember something I told her one minute ago. If we have a visitor, she doesn't remember they were here five minutes after they are gone. If we go to visit someone else she says, "I never go anywhere. I can't. Bill died. He made sure I'd never be able to drive again." THAT she remembers. She remembers the doctor saying, "You used to have such a good brain." She doesn't remember calling me a liar. Or telling me, "Go to hell!" She doesn't remember to take a shower. When I bring it up she gets angry. "It's funny that I lived all of my life without you around to tell me when to take a shower!"

Mom always has been conscious and meticulous about her hygiene. I know I'm battling with Alzheimer's. I call it battling, but it isn't really a battle because I have stopped fighting with it for the most part. What is the point in upsetting my mother to the point of anger, belligerence and combativeness? What is the point in upsetting myself, driving my blood pressure up and having a stroke? I remember a bit of advice sometime long ago: Choose your battles.

I have talked with friends. They all advise me the same things: Place Mom where she will be safe. Those words cannot be taken lightly. Look at the global economy. Look at the budget cuts. Look at the reputations of the facilities vying for my mother's pocket book. Our state representative, Linda Bolon, says in today's morning paper, that the libraries aren't the only things that are going to be cut. Why do I feel like every facet of our current way of life is under fire and on the edge of a revolution? Am I the only one who sees that if we place Mom somewhere and all funding is cut we will have another crisis on our hands as her condition progresses? That's probably my writerly imagination at work. Sorry. We all know that the caretakers don't get away much. Without social stimulation from the outside world it's easy to become out of touch and have to entertain thoughts inside your own head that don't meld well with the outside world.

I had dinner with Matt and Mary Catherine Monday evening. Matt was my Spanish prof at Kent State. Mary Catherine was another student. We just kinda melded into a Three Musketeers trio. Aren't there programs out there to help you with your mom, Mary Catherine asked. Your mother wouldn't want you to be going through this if she knew, Cathy, Matt said.

So, yesterday I called the Area Agency on Aging. Ms. Davis forwarded me to the screening desk. A voice message said someone would be with me shortly. Calls were being answered in the order in which they came in. The second voice message said, "There is no one available to take your call. Please leave a message. Someone will get back to you within three business days." Oh. I suspect this will be a common issue as the economy spins out of control and past the point of no return. I left my name, phone number and a short message. Three days will be Friday. I doubt there is much help coming my way this week, especially not on a Friday.

I read a news story online. Sink holes in the Dead Sea. Water shortage in the "parched moonscape" is the "lowest point on the earth." A few days ago I read a news story online that a once-upon-a-time lake on Mars has been discovered. Oh. Are we doing to Earth what was done on Mars once-upon-a-time? Sorry. My sarcasm is showing.

I grew up with a strong faith in God. Great-grandma Alice Crawford instilled faith in my mother. She lived with the family and slept in the same bed as my mother. Every night she read the Bible to Mom until Mom dropped off to sleep. Mom didn't read the Bible to me every night before I went to sleep, but she did teach me about God and I have a very deep faith in Him. What do people who don't believe hold onto when they are in their darkest hours?

In the early 1980s there was a deep schism in our church. Two men fought over control of the little church. I was reeling from the horrible economy, what they called the Economic Malaise, and went to church for comfort and re-energizing. It was so bad at church that I felt worse when I came out than when I went in. That's not a place where God was. I stopped taking my family to church. Years later, I realized that we should have a minister who knows us, someone to perform marriage ceremonies and funerals. I didn't want a stranger to speak over my loved ones. So I went back.

But a year ago, the minister threw the last straw at the camel's back. We are NOT supposed to judge each other. What my mother taught me is NOT lies. Continually singing the praises of the "few faithful", the same "few faithful" time after time wasn't just offensive to the rest of us who were not deemed faithful, but I was embarrassed for the people he was naming. How can he say one time, "My church family is the most important family to me?" and another time say, "Sorry, but my family is the most important even above my church family"? What does he mean when he says, "Don't come to me with your problems. I can't help you with them. I don't know the answers. I can't advise you." But the most offensive thing he said, "We're in the saving souls business, not the helping the needy business." Wait a minute. Isn't that why the disciples appointed elders and deacons? The deciples had so much work to do in saving souls they appointed elders and deacons to take care of the needs of the people??? What did I miss here? And doesn't every minister know that when a family is worried about paying the rent today before they are evicted and how they're going to feed their children so the kids don't go to bed crying from hunger pains, the last thing on their minds and agendas is where their souls are going to spend eternity! This minister holds a master's degree in mathematics. He never attended seminary. What does he know about being a minister? What does he think the word even means? That minister has not called. Has not come to visit me. I don't know why he came to my dad's calling hours because he never came to visit my dad. Didn't visit my dad in the hospital. He has never been here to visit my mother. Must be appearances. His wife said, "Oh, don't hug me. I've been sick." But she hugged my grandsons. Yeah. That's what I thought. Ministers like this one now leave a bad taste in my mouth. If that's what heaven is made of, maybe I don't want to go there. I just don't think that's what heaven is like. That's not how God operates.

So, here I am. No church family to rely on, no minister to minister to us. I am at the Physician, heal thyself status. It's me and God to lead my family. That's not exactly true. Friends, near and far, talk to me, even if it's just in email. They are blessings to me. But it still doesn't solve my dilemma: the best care in my mother's best interests. What am I going to do? What am I going to do? And the others still judge me. I got a card from Shirley and Bill, "I hope you find your way back to God," she wrote. Find my way back to God? I left that church so that translates into leaving God??? Uh...no.

Caregivers are so isolated. I've always known that. When I get through this experience, finish this journey with my mother, I will seek out the caregivers who need the support of others who understand. I will help them because I will know what they are dealing with.

I apologize for whining. Mary Catherine said I should be myself. I shouldn't put up the facade of a strong woman who never cries. Well, I won't go that far. I've been crying a lot lately. Alzheimer's is a heartbreaking, tear-jerker disease. I am saturated by it so it overflows into my writing. All of my writing, in one way or another.

Please, God, forgive me when I fall short. I'm doing that a lot lately. Please, God, help me to forgive the church family that I feel has let me down. I surely must be looking at this all wrong. Please, Lord, give me eyes to see and ears to hear and an understanding heart. Please, Lord, be kind to my mother. Please, Lord, bear me up and make me steadfast and strong, not just for myself, but for the people who depend on me, who look to me for wisdom and knowledge, who don't have the abilities to see and hear and understand as well as some of the rest of us. Lord God, please don't forget about us wayward humans who think we know everything and still don't even know all of the questions. Your will be done, Lord God. Amen.